The Keeper of My Brother's Friend
by Sandylee007
Summary: Ethan Hunt gets into a bit of a trouble on a mission. Which is nothing new. But who is the mysterious archer that saves his life? Because the man looks just like William Brandt. ONESHOT


A/N: This idea came to me OUT OF NOWHERE and refused to leave. So, here we are. (smirks sheepishly)

DISCLAIMER: I own ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. Just… Toying with the characters for a bit. (grins)

WARNINGS: A bit of language and some violence (hence the T-rating), but otherwise a shockingly short list for my fic. General weirdness, totally!

Awkay, let's stop stalling before I change my mind about posting this. I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

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 _ **The Keeper of My Brother's Friend**_

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Cuffed quite firmly to a chair, his whole body having been transformed to a gigantic bruise, Ethan Hunt was still sane enough to admit to himself that this wasn't one of his finest ideas. A knuckle duster covered fist met his face, confirming his analysis. For a few moments black spots danced in his line of vision.

"… is the flash drive?"

Ethan smirked. Insane enough to find some humor from all of this. He was fairly sure that blood coated his teeth, coloring his smile red. "'friend has it. Safe and sound." He seriously hoped that Benji was as far away as possible with the cursed thing. That he'd succeeded in buying enough time.

The mountain-sized man in front of him sighed heavily. "Well, Mr. Hunt… I'm very unhappy to hear that."

A gun was raised against him. Ethan counted how long it'd take before he'd get rid of the cuffs. Too long.

The criminal's finger was almost on the trigger when it froze suddenly. A pair of ice colored eyes widened, then glazed over. The whole incredibly tall frame crumbled to the floor. It was the only sound death made on arrival. Ethan's eyes widened a faction or two as they spotted the arrow that'd pierced the enemy's neck.

Who the hell still used a bow and arrows?

Alerted by the thud, three more enemies ran to the room, speaking loudly in a language Ethan would've been able to understand without the crushing headache. Two of them spun around while the third approached him, eyes flashing hazardously. "American! What did you do?"

Ethan nodded towards the cuffs. "See these? I didn't do a thing." Ridiculous, all of this.

The man's lips opened but whatever was about to come became cut short by one of the two others shouting. The man who'd come uncomfortably close to him spun around just as Ethan's eyes moved. It didn't take long before he noticed movement on a nearby rooftop.

A dark shadow that turned out to be a man. A man carrying a bow and an arrow. A steady, clearly skilled hand waited until the exactly right moment. A breath before he would've been gunned down by the criminals the archer reacted, releasing a series of three arrows unnaturally quickly. Ethan blinked several times when moonlight finally revealed his savior's face.

 _Brandt…?!_

Clouds covered the moon. Only for a few seconds, during which one of the men – using his very last breath to the motion – fired four gunshots. When the clouds moved once more the archer was gone.

Ethan didn't have long to mull over the baffling discovery. Because the whole debacle had aroused unwanted attention. Steps thrummed towards the room and just as Ethan's second wrist slipped out of the cuffs the door was thrown open. Five enemies burst in. Ethan gritted his teeth and was then ready to face them. No matter how much his body was begging for a break.

 _Suck it up, Hunt_ , he told himself. _This time you don't even have broken bones._

He did have plenty of deep bruising and a concussion, though. And those reminded of themselves with every single kick and punch he delivered. Ethan fared remarkably well but he was unarmed against several men and one woman with heavy weaponry. Eventually he had two guns pointed at his head.

They say that right before death a person sees their whole life flashing before their eyes. Bullcrap. Ethan's mind pulled a complete, utter blank as he stared at the duo, eyes blazing and breathing heavily. Two gunshots echoed.

Ethan was still alive.

His head turned towards the room's doorway. William Brandt stood there, wearing an expensive suit and a far from impressed expression. "I try to skip one mission to handle long overdue paperwork and you decide to launch one of your brilliant plans." The analyst sighed heavily while holstering a gun, looking like the father of a particularly challenging child. Or a very, very worried friend trying to hide it who just almost suffered a heart attack. "I should've known better than to leave you and Benji without a babysitter." A perfectly steady hand rose to an ear comm. "Yes, Benji, he's still alive and in one piece. Stop screaming in my ear. We're getting out of here so I can drag him to a doctor." Was there something fond to that tone or was it the concussion doing its work? Will smirked. "Copy that." The hand fell from the man's ear and began to help him up. "Now let's get out of here before Benji brings in a whole medical team."

Ethan nodded, feeling more than a little dazed, and allowed himself to be helped. His eyebrows furrowed while they hobbled forward. "Since when have you done archery?" he mumbled, slurring a little.

Will shook his head. "Wasn't me. Just… a very old friend." The man grunted when Ethan's footing slipping nearly caused them both to fall down. "Let's agree that more questions can wait until your head's recovered."

Ethan wanted to argue but with the couple of sledgehammers pounding at his head objections didn't feel like a good idea.

* * *

While a doctor examined Ethan, the agent grunted either retorts or actual answers and Benji fussed around loudly Will's phone bleeped. He made sure that no one was watching before opening the message. It was from a number no one would've been able to trace.

' _I take it your friend's going to be okay?_ '

Will took a breath, pleased that his chest didn't feel tight anymore. ' _He is. Thank you. I owe you one._ '

' _Two already, actually. And you could start repaying by visiting for once. The kids miss uncle Will._ '

Will couldn't help but smile. ' _You know that a Farm isn't my style. But maybe this Christmas._ '

' _I take that as a promise. Try not to get yourself killed before that. Even though we're both too old for this crap._ ' That was the closest to 'I'm constantly worried about you' the two of them would ever get.

' _You too, Feathers. And only you are getting too old._ '

' _Twins, remember? And that nickname is getting really old, too._ '

With a grin Will switched off the phone. Then began to make his way to his friends. Maybe, if he got really lucky, he'd be able to avoid answering questions for a little while longer. The massive pizza he decided to treat them with as soon as Ethan would be able to leave the hospital should help.

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End

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A/N: That was a rather silly little thing. But how cool would it be to see William Brandt and Clint Barton handling a mission together? (grins)

Soooo… Was that any good, at all? Garbage material? PLEASE, do leave a word or two to let me know!

I'M PLANNING ON AT LEAST TWO MORE 'M:I' FICS. In the next one Will goes through lots of whump! (smirks) And I do feel tempted to bring Will and Clint together… It'd blow Benji's mind, that's for sure!

Awkay, I really have to go. THANK YOU, so much, for reading! Maybe I'll see you again one day.

Take care!


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